


It Never Rains But It Pours

by words4nerdz



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Hate Sex, I can't find any others on here and I'd love to read stuff that I haven't written, No Romance, Oral Sex, help me out friends, someone else is gonna have to help me boost the numbers of sonya/kano fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4281114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words4nerdz/pseuds/words4nerdz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More smutfic. Sonya and Kano are stranded in the forest on Shang Tsung's island and get sidetracked during a rainstorm. Consensual loveless sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I _hate_ this island,” muttered Sonya, slapping a mosquito from her arm. The insect burst, leaving a bright smear of her own blood that glistened sickly in the weak light that managed to filter down through the canopy. It had to be around high noon, then, because most of the time the forest seemed to be dominated by a thick gloom that made her suspect it was not altogether on a single plane of existence. A week ago, she may have thought that impossible, but since arriving on Shang Tsung’s island and learning of the brutal and terrible tradition of Mortal Kombat, many things she would have previously thought impossible had become demonstrable fixtures of reality.

“Me too, but your constant whining makes it so much easier to bear.” Kano brushed past her roughly, slamming his shoulder into hers hard enough to make her stagger. She glared after him, following reluctantly. Traveling with her sworn enemy, withstanding the caustic insipidity of his “company”, allowing him to walk beside her, behind her, and now, in front of her, without sinking a punch into his smug fucking face, was another miracle of circumstance. She could hardly stomach it, even now, but there were horrible monsters in the forest—abominations that were even more bloodthirsty than her current…companion, and Shang Tsung’s forces were doubtlessly hunting them even now. Better the devil she knew. Kano was a lot of things, but self-preserving was foremost among them. They stood a better chance at survival together than they would alone, and it was that inarguable fact that prevented either from attacking the other. It didn’t mean they got along. 

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” she asked, teeth bared in an automatic grimace. He didn’t just walk—he _sauntered_. The arrogant canting of his hips and shoulders, the rhythmic heaviness of his footfalls, was insufferable on an almost primal level. 

He shrugged, not bothering to turn back to her as he answered. “Hopefully away from Shang Tsung, and towards a source of fresh water.”

“Well that’s just brilliant,” she hissed, “I can see how you rose up through the Black Dragon ranks so quickly.”

He bristled, turning to her and putting a threatening finger in her face. “You got a better idea, princess? Feel free to share. Otherwise, stow it and keep walking.”

She didn’t flinch. “We’ve been walking for hours—probably in circles—with no sign of water. We need to mark our path, or find some consistent method of navigation—”

“You’re not very bright, are you?” he sneered. “Marking our way will just make it easier for them to find us. Trust me, I know how to do the whole fugitive thing. You just keep an eye out for company.”

“I’ll keep two,” she muttered, staring off into the shadows around them.

He snorted, but kept walking.

The light faltered, fading quickly, and the unsettling rumble of thunder seemed to shudder the thick air around them.

“Ah, fuck,” he glared up at the thin places in the canopy. “Hope you like humidity.”

“The foliage should shield us from most of the rain.” She wasn’t trying to be positive as much as she was to be contrary. 

He shook his head, squinting up at the leaves. “These are weird trees. The limbs aren’t thick enough and the leaves are too narrow. It’s just gonna pour right through.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Looks like we’ll be getting fresh water after all.”

He drew a knife, turning the blade meditatively so that the weak light danced across the flat of it. She dropped into a defensive stance, eyeing him warily. He arched an eyebrow and grinned, then flipped the knife, holding it out to her hilt-first. “Start cutting what you can. May as well get a shelter going. Unless, of course, you’d rather get wet.” The thunder rolled again.

She took the knife, fingers wrapping around the worn leather straps. They were stained with sweat, and what was likely blood, but she couldn’t afford to be picky. She picked her way through the undergrowth, keeping him in her sights. Just because he’d given her a weapon didn’t mean that he trusted her with it or didn’t intend to use the other one on her. She found a few thin saplings and hacked away at them as best as she could. The knife wasn’t meant for wood, but it worked well enough. She stripped the limbs efficiently, saving the ones with the most leaves, and soon had an armful of serviceable shelter-components. 

Kano had started setting his up against the trunk of a particularly large tree, driving rough-ended posts into the ground at slightly uneven intervals. He’d started constructing a roof that seemed to rely more on a tenuous balancing system than anything else. He looked up as she drew closer.

“What?”

“That’s looking pretty shitty. It’ll fall apart if you stress it too much.”

He glowered, sweeping an arm out to indicate the rest of the forest. “You see any lasting structures around here? It just needs to get us through the night.”

“Us?” she repeated incredulously. “I’m building my own shelter, thanks.” Walking with him was bad enough. Riding out a storm in close quarters—in close quarters in a poorly-constructed shelter, no less—was unthinkable.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but don’t come crawling to me when your roof leaks and you’re missing your featherbed mattress.”

She rolled her eyes, dumping her armload on a swath of cleared ground. It was a small hillock—water would run down and away. Kano’s spot was in a depression—a well created by the roots and the general slope of the land. She wouldn’t be the one getting wet, but she may as well let him be surprised. She returned to the thick patch and started harvesting more branches. She’d had survival training with Special Forces, and she’d been camping in woods and canyons and scrubland since she was eight. A shoddy shelter could be worse than no shelter at all, and if she was going to build one, she’d be sure to do it right.

It was comforting, working with her hands. Her lean-to took shape quickly, and she’d lashed the last leafy branch to the roof before the rain started. She unscrewed the cap on her travel canteen and set it outside her shelter so that it would catch whatever rainfall made it through the canopy, then crawled into the comfortable shaded space. The earth was cool and firm beneath her, and she felt the full toll of the past few days catching up to her. May as well get some shut-eye before they had to be on the move again. A few drops hit her roof with a gentle patter. She curled up, pulling her boots beneath the cover of her shelter, and closed her eyes, regulating her breathing until the hush of increasing rainfall faded into a soothing lull.

She awoke to the crushing roar of a heavy downpour, and smirked in satisfaction. Still dry. She rolled over onto her stomach and peered out into the silvery haze. She couldn’t see Kano, but she could hear a low, discontented cursing from the general direction of his shelter that seemed to indicate it was well on its way to a predictable, soggy end. She grinned.

“How’s your roof holding up?” she called.

“Rack off!” came his answering snarl, but it was lacking its usual fire. 

She laughed, shifting over onto her back and folding her arms behind her head. “Missing your mattress yet, princess?” 

He didn’t answer, so she tried going back to sleep. The steady drumming of the rain was—a twig snapped, and she tensed. Footsteps, heavy and blunt—purposeful. She sat up and prepared herself to roll out, gripping Kano’s knife firmly. There was a growing shadow, a red flash, and Kano was crawling into her shelter.

“Hey, fuck off,” she protested, putting a boot to his shoulder and pressing, sliding him back a few feet.

“Shut up, mine collapsed.” He slapped her leg away and flopped heavily to the ground, movement casting water droplets off onto Sonya.

“Asshole—” she shoved at his back, rolling him over so she could glare in his face. “I told you it would. Deal with it.”

“I am,” he growled, trapping her hands to keep her from pushing him out. “You’re a bitch, but your shelter’s still good.”

She grimaced, trying to pull away. His vest was soaked, and the coarse material rubbed against her arms unpleasantly. His skin was clammy and slick with rainwater, and his hair was plastered over his forehead, leeching rivulets across his shining silver faceplate. She kneed him in the ribs and he released her hands, glaring up at her.

She sighed. There wasn’t enough room to fight without compromising the shelter, and the storm couldn’t last more than a few hours. “Fine. Stay on the outside.”

“Great. You truly are a paragon of generosity.” He rolled over and stared out into the rain.

Sonya lowered herself down gingerly, boots out towards his head, keeping her own head in tight to the corner of the roof. She tucked the knife he’d given her into the joint, and tried to relax.

“Feel free to spoon. I won’t judge.” He wiggled a little, ass bumping her side.

“Fuck you, you’re all wet.” She sat up, digging an elbow into his spine.

“Hey, and you can be too!” he snickered, then spluttered as she rolled him back out into the rain. “Shit!”

Sonya smirked, but he crawled back in, anger in his one good eye, and pinned her awkwardly, shaking his head over her like a dog so that water splattered her face and neck. She sucked her teeth and arched against him, trying to use her body weight as leverage, but succeeded only in getting her uniform wet. His knees were tight against her hips, and his boots trapped her ankles so she couldn’t kick up. She tried to headbutt him, but he jerked his head back too quickly—it hit the roof with a thump, and they both froze. Nothing happened—the lean-to remained water-proof.

“Get off me, asshole.” 

“You gonna play nice?” he asked, a humorless smirk playing over his lips. “We’re in this together, after all. May as well be civil.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she kept her tone lightly sarcastic, but she was having trouble breathing, or something—the tight space, the humidity, his suffocating proximity made her feel flushed and anxious. Her chest was heaving, but he was breathing hard, too, and even in the dim light she could see that his remaining pupil was dilated.

“Never was much good at it.” He was looking at her lips, frowning vaguely. She was acutely conscious of his body heat. It shouldn’t feel good, not in this humidity, but the combination of living warmth and pressure was weirdly delicious. She slid her arms out in the mud, pulling him in closer.

“Really? I’d never have guessed.” She bit her lower lip, drawing it forward slowly, and he looked shocked for a moment, barking out an incredulous laugh.

“You can’t expect—”

“Why not?” she interrupted, rocking her hips languidly, smirking as she felt him respond. He shifted over her, fingers tightening around her wrists, and shrugged.

“Good point.” He crushed her lips in a kiss, teeth nipping painfully until she opened her mouth and his tongue pushed in. She arched against him, reveling in the coarseness of his vest against her exposed skin. He lowered himself on top of her, pushing her back and ass into the mud, and dug the toes of his boots in for better leverage as he ground against her. This freed her legs, and she drew them up and locked them roughly over his back; her heels tapped his spine, and she grinned as he winced. He released one of her wrists, using that arm to unzip her cropped vest and shift her bra aside.

Grit on his palm and fingers abraded her sensitive skin, and he left streaks of mud as he kneaded. She used her free hand to seize the back of his neck, fingers brushing the cold, foreign slickness of the cables that powered his cybernetic eye. The hair at the nape of his neck was greasy and coarse, even after being soaked by the deluge.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” she gasped in between kisses, kicking her boots off. “When’s the last time you cleaned yourself?”

“Just did. Rain counts.” He licked her throat from collarbone to chin, and she shuddered at the hot wet shock of his tongue at such a vulnerable area. 

“Doesn’t count if you’ve got your clothes on, dumbass.” She whimpered as his teeth replaced his fingers around her nipple, and she clutched the back of his head in tight to her. “Oh, f-uck me.”

He laughed, busily unfastening her belt. “That’s the only order I’ll take from you, bitch.”

“God, stop talking.” She reached down and helped work her pants and underwear down over her hips, legs slapping in the mud as he stripped her pants away with a rough, impatient jerk. His fingers sunk into the taut muscle of her thighs as he pushed them apart, and she tingled in anticipation at the quick shocks of his breath against her crotch. It was a dizzying sensation, infuriatingly delicate, and she ached to end it, reaching down for his head to pull him into contact. He swatted her hands aside.

“Patience is a virtue,” he breathed, planting a soft kiss on her inner thigh and following up with a slow, deliberate bite.

“Not one of mine,” she panted, sucking in sharply when she felt the tip of his tongue trace lightly along the inside of her labia. Her eyes closed and her stomach tightened, and there was only the sound of the rain and the chill of the mud and the gathering strength and insistence of his eager mouth. She sighed out in a soft “hh” and cupped the back of his skull with one hand, steadying his motions. Jesus, it was like he was conducting her pulse with each stroke, and GOD she was throbbing. Her pelvis was a cradle of molten lust and her spine was stiffening—there, there—she moaned, and suddenly he stopped.

“Wh-where did you—” she fought the haze of pre-orgasm, sitting up. He had his arms propped up on her knees and was grinning at her. “Why did you stop?”

“Just wanted you to know that I could.” He surged forward, kissing her sloppily, pinching her bottom lip in his teeth. She could taste herself on him.

She growled, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and wrenched hard, rolling him over so that she was on top.

“Oh fuck, it’s all muddy,” he complained.

“Suck it up.” She unzipped his pants and drew them down, sparing him a quick judgmental glare when it was clear that he wore nothing underneath.

He tipped his head as if to shrug, but choked off whatever he was going to say as she settled over him, rolling her hips to ease the passage. Her head tapped the roof of the lean-to, and she groaned in irritation, planting her hands at either side of his head, her fingers sinking into the mud and her breasts hanging low, swaying with her motions as she rocked back and forth. He closed his eye and blew out his cheeks, one hand traveling up her thigh to settle at her hip, thumb digging in flush to the flare of her pelvis. The other slid around, grabbing her ass so hard that she could tell it would bruise later, but she didn’t care.

“God, I fucking hate you,” she panted, surging faster over him, lingering at the deepest point and clenching as tightly as she could. He made a surprisingly small noise in the back of his throat, head tipping back. She shifted her weight to one hand, cupping his neck with the other, sliding her thumb over his Adam’s apple before pressing down beneath his chin, cutting off his air. His fingers clenched, boring into her, but he didn’t try to throw her off, a wide grin spreading across his lips. 

“Of course you like that,” she sneered, pressing harder. His face was flushing, which looked grotesque, but he was moving beneath her in a way that made her actually appreciate how vast he was. The breadth of his shoulders, the span of his ribs—it was like fucking a small mountain. Or a volcano. He knocked her supporting arm away and she fell forward onto him, yelping in shocked pain as she collapsed heavily on her chest, and she curled over him reflexively. He rolled her, pinning her back in the mud, and thrust with a speed that was almost frenzied. She lost track of her breaths in a series of high whimpers that seemed to emanate from the center of her forehead.

“The great Sonya Blade,” he taunted, shifting his grip on her shoulders and licking his lips. “Mewling like a kitten. I’ll have you screaming before I’m through.”

She reached up beneath his vest, sinking her nails into the warm flesh above his shoulderblades and raking slowly downwards, again and again until he finally hissed and dipped low to her.

“You’ll need to do better than that,” she breathed in his ear, teasing the lobe with her tongue before taking it in her teeth and biting down so hard that he yelped. She felt his knees trembling, and smirked, rocking her hips up flush to him, tightening around him. She was rewarded with a small, strangled whine.

She eased off of his back, using both hands to cradle his skull and pull him into a deep kiss, not sparing on tongue. He quaked, legs giving way, and she rolled them over. They tumbled out of the shelter and into the rain, but the water was cool and the slick grass cleaned away much of the mud. She was on top again, and she tore his hands from her hips and stood languidly, leaving him stiff and aching.

“S-Sonya, don’t just—” he grimaced, hands darting in to finish what she wouldn’t. She kicked them lightly aside and knelt down over his chest, pinning his biceps with her knees. Her long braid, heavy with mud and rain, swung over her shoulder and settled beside her breasts, painted with glistening tracks of rainwater. She gripped his chin in one hand, beard scraping her palm, and parted his lips with her other.

“I don’t like to be left hanging, Kano,” she said. “You promised screaming, so make me scream.”

He glared at her, but nodded, accepting her probing fingers without biting. His tongue curled around them, narrow tip lashing the knuckles and stroking the sensitive webbing between them with surprising delicacy.

“Good,” she sighed into the rain, withdrawing her hands and shuffling forward, knees sinking into the grass. His fingers swept up her thighs, gripping her hips and digging into her asscheeks as he adjusted himself beneath her. There he was.

The rain pattered against her back, the soft humidity of the breeze curled around her firm stomach, and his facial hair scratched at the tender inner walls of her labia. She swayed with his ministrations as they grew more vigorous, wincing and then whimpering as he started using more teeth. His tongue flicked across her throbbing clit and she barely kept herself from crying out by biting down on her lower lip. She couldn’t prevent a low moan from escaping, though, and she felt his cheeks bunch in a smile before his teeth closed around it. Her spine stiffened, and she grabbed his hair in one hand, kneading a breast with the other. Her eyes were closing and she felt that numb, warm haze gathering in the base of her skull. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps now, punctuated with soft cries as the sensitivity of every nerve heightened. He pinched her ass, and she let out a curse that turned into a shout when he worked a hand between her cheeks and shoved a finger up her asshole.

“Fuck—ah!” She arched back, legs tensing and lifting away from the unexpected sensation, alleviating the invasive pressure, but only for a moment. She hadn’t come yet, but she knew she was close, and if it took a finger up the ass to keep his mouth busy, she’d, well… take it. Actually, once she was over the surprise, it felt weirdly good. She sank lower experimentally, pushing down against his finger, enveloping another knuckle and seizing when he flexed it, a haze of pleasurable pain almost drowning out the low buzz of his laugh beneath her.

“Nnh—you think that’s, hh, funny?” she gasped. He nipped her clit in response and she let out a helpless mewl, biting her lip in shame at the vulnerability of the sound. No, no that wasn’t her. She shifted her knees, bringing them tight behind his head, and squeezed his skull between her thighs, not caring about the asymmetrical feeling of the metal brow in contrast with the fleshy one, concentrating instead on the pressure against her quads, and the increasing frenzy of his strokes. He ripped his finger out of her ass and pawed at her stomach, trying to push her away, to push her off, but she was well-rooted.

“I thought you liked, mhh, being choked,” she panted, rolling her hips languidly, acutely aware of every flex of his lips, twitch of his tongue. Close, now. Her legs were trembling, but she didn’t relent. Clo-ose. One of his hands spanned her ribs, steadying her as the other snaked up and crushed her breast, calloused fingers punishing the soft flesh. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened in a silent O—it felt like her jaws were splitting—and she couldn’t feel her legs. A wave of warmth washed over her—every muscle was loose and humming gently, and she was dimly aware of the cold thud jarring her shoulder as she fell to the side in the mud, and the gentle patter of rain against her cheek was like the sky itself was soothing her hot skin.

Kano’s ragged breathing interrupted her lazy reflection, and he spun her roughly on her back. He stretched her arms up over her head, pinning them as he leaned into her face. His expression was something between a smile and a snarl, and his beard was wet with her and the rain.

“I thought you were going to scream,” he hissed against her cheek, pressing his lips hard against hers, thumb and middle finger boring into her jaw muscles until her mouth opened and he could slip his tongue in so that she could taste herself a second time. 

She grunted, breathing in sharply through her nose as a hand found her breast again.

He broke the kiss, eyes dark and glinting menacingly, and she grinned up at him humorlessly. She settled back in the mud, distantly enjoying the way that the cold mud shifted to perfectly cup her shoulderblades.

“Didn’t you want to scream?” He bit gently at her throat, raking his lower teeth across her windpipe and planting a firm kiss beneath her jaw, just over her carotid. She arched her neck back, lazily putting a hand to the back of his head as he trailed down over her collarbone and went to work on her free breast.

“You’re being awfully—” she sucked in a shallow breath as he pinned her nipple in his teeth, “—awfully _attentive_ for such a selfish piece of shit.”

“Is that a thank you?” he murmured between mouthfuls.

“No.” She cleared her throat and looked up at the dark canopy, letting the rain fall against her open face. The cool air and icy water was a stark contrast to the sick heat that flared against her breasts, her stomach, her thighs—at every point of contact at which his skin pressed against hers. Heat gathered between her legs, filled her slowly, completely.

“I’m just… playing nice.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed, withdrawing so suddenly that she flinched. He planted a fist in the mud at either side of her head and looked her in the eyes.

“I fucking hate you, Sonya,” he said, and it seemed to her as though his cybernetic eye flared a little. “You’re a thorn in my side I just can’t seem to work free.”

“Well, I do my best.”

“Shut up.” He loomed in alarmingly fast, and she thought for a moment that he was going to headbutt her and she braced for the impact, but instead he kissed her eyelids with exaggerated gentleness, smirking when she twitched in disgust.

“When someone makes you cum like that, you really should thank them, you know.” He pinned her wrists when she started to get up and shook his head slightly.

“Your mom teach you that?” She was losing patience with his little speech, and if he wasn’t going to fuck her, then she wanted to wash off before the rain stopped.

Her words had more of an effect than expected, and he scowled, fingers tightening around her wrists. “My mom was a whore that died before she could ‘teach’ me anything. I could strangle you right now and leave your naked body for Shang Tsung’s boys to find if I felt like it. But—” He calmed himself, smiling thinly. “I won’t.”

She flexed her fingers, making a moderate effort to free her arms while digging her heels in. If she had to fight, she could. It’d be best to flip him first, and once he was off his balance, she could get back to the shelter and use the knife he’d left with her. She wasn’t as good as she’d like to be with knives, but she was good enough.

“So what’s your point?” she asked to keep him distracted.

“You hate me,” he shrugged. “I couldn’t care less about what you think. What’s important is that I fucked you, and you liked it. _I_ fucked you— _me_ , and you won’t be able to forget how I made you feel.”

She laughed. “Is that supposed to scare me? Shame me? I fucked you, too. I wanted something, and I took it. I don’t give a shit about your over-inflated sense of self. You were good, but not that good, and if you’d rather talk than get off, you may as well roll over and finish yourself.”

His brow knit low over his remaining eye, and his mouth shrunk to a thin, frustrated line as he absorbed her words. He finally growled and pushed away, getting to his feet and straightening his vest. She smirked and sat up, but he put a heavy hand on her head before she could stand.

“Open,” he said, looping her mud-caked braid around in his fist and digging his fingers into her scalp. 

“Aren’t you going to say ‘please’?” she smirked, shifting on her knees and taking him into her mouth. He groaned, but whether it was her quip or her soft lips that caused the sound was impossible to tell. She curled her tongue around his length, bobbing forward slowly at first, gaining speed as he guided her head. She slipped her hands up his thighs, continuing up to trace the shallow valley of his pelvis with one, and just barely skimming the vulnerable skin of his ballsack with the fingernails of the other. The muscles of his lower stomach flinched, and he curled his free hand around the back of her neck, fingertips resting in the smooth divets between the nubs of her vertebrae.

“Shit—yeah, just keep—yeah.” He muttered, cursed, half under his breath, but she didn’t care enough to try to discern it all. He jerked her more demandingly, and she gave up on being delicate. She took him in as fully as she could, until he pressed painfully at the back of her throat with each inward motion. She grew a little rougher with her fondling, closing her fingers until she heard his breath catch. She grazed his shaft with her teeth as she drew away, idly considering the fact that she could simply clench her fist or snap her jaws closed, and put him in agony. It was what he’d been trying to get at before, but, typical Kano, he hadn’t had either the brains or the vocabulary to do it justice. This position, this rough, sticky fumbling of heated flesh with pleasure and pain within equal reach, depending only on her choice. It was a sick kind of tenuous trust that they forced each other to share, and the thought that it could be so easily broken was as intoxicating as the purely physical—maybe even more so. 

He didn’t warn her before he came, but he let go of her hair and pushed her back in the mud, spurting over her chest and stomach. The slick mess was unpleasantly warm, and she wrinkled her nose, grabbing a fistful of grass to help brush it away.

He stomped off in search of his pants, never glancing backwards. She snorted and spat, tipping her head back and letting her mouth fill with rain, cleaning his taste from her tongue. She stood and cleaned away the remaining ejaculate, as well as most of the mud that had been caked onto her backside. Her hair wouldn’t really be clean until they got the fuck off this damn island and back to civilization, but at least it would stay out of her face. The rain fell against her, soothing and stimulating every inch, and refreshed the slight fatigue that was beginning to set in. She inhaled deeply, smelling the water, the forest, the earth, and smiled broadly. When she was sufficiently clean, she climbed up the small rise and crawled back under her shelter, locating her clothes and pulling them on without ceremony. She'd sleep the rest of the storm away, and hopefully they'd find some means of escape when it cleared up. If not, maybe they'd be pissed enough to fuck again. Either way, she was sure that she could handle herself. 


	2. Mud Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> born in a mountain, raised in a cave--truckin' and hate-fuckin' is all I crave

The rain broke at last, and wordlessly the two fighters cleared their makeshift camp and set off again. Kano shouldered past her roughly and stomped away, and Sonya rolled her eyes. They were traveling east. The question of who took point was meaningless. Still, having to watch his broad back lurch forward, the dumb meat of his arms swinging rhythmically, the low-slung bristle-haired back of his skull bobbing with each step, was definitely not how she would have preferred to travel. She focused on the chrome cables snaking back from his face plate and burrowing into the skin hidden beneath his vest. The cold sheen of wet metal was cleaner than the man around it. 

Her boots slid in the damp loam from time to time—decaying leaves, thin puddles of mud, rotting twigs and so on—and she gritted her teeth. Each time her boots lost traction a static shock of alert ripped through her heart and left her feeling sick. The soft-gripped rubber soles were great for moving over hard-packed ground, but were a distinct disadvantage here in the jungle. She bent down and untied them, removing her socks with care so as not to soak them in the filth. Balling the socks up and stuffing them in her pockets, she tied the laces of her boots together and slung them around her neck. Her toes squelched in the cold much, but she felt slightly more steady. Kano hadn't stopped for her, and had put several wide strides and a fallen tree between them. 

This was just childish. 

"Hey, asshole," she called, stepping forward gingerly at first, then with greater confidence as she adjusted to the mud. "Wait up."

He faltered, then took another step away, then halted. She heard him inhale sharply, but he held his tongue as she drew even and then rounded on him to glare in his face. 

"The whole point of not killing each other is getting through this fucking forest in one piece," she hissed, searching his petulant expression for a glimmer of understanding. "If you're going to go gallivanting off on your own, I might as well put a bullet in your back for all the difference it'll make." 

His resentful glower sharpened into a sneer. "Yeah? Not very sporting of you, Sonya. Thought you were all about honor and all that shite. Makin' a lot of exceptions for me, aren't you?" He grinned and put up two fingers, one extended at either side of his mouth, and slid his tongue out between them, wriggling it grotesquely at her. 

Ugh. She wrinkled her nose and slapped him across the face with the back of her hand. Before the crisp smack had faded, his brows knit and he snapped out a fast jab that caught her on the cheek and sent her stumbling back a few paces. She hissed in pain and gingerly touched the rapidly swelling weal with a knuckle. That would make a colorful bruise in a matter of hours. Sloppy, to let him hit her. 

He sank into a defensive stance. Surprising, considering his usual MO was simply to rush in and swing away. His eye glittered darkly. "That's more like it, love. Pain suits you." 

Sonya scoffed and put up her fists. "I might be worried if you'd ever actually managed to beat me." 

He bristled and spat to the side, wiping his lips on the back of his fist and wading in on her. He threw a left hook that she dodged with ease, and followed it up with a gut-punch that missed, but sailed by close enough that she could feel the wake of the blow feather against her stomach. She planted a foot in front of him and yanked at his back while he was off-balance from the move, and felt a warm stab of satisfaction as he tumbled face-down in the muck. 

"You're pathetic," she laughed, circling him while he raised himself to his hands and knees, spluttering filth. She reared back and kicked him in the ribs. He grunted, but didn't go sprawling like she'd hoped. "Really I'd be doing you a favor if I finished you off." 

She pulled back and tried to get another kick in before he got up, but he caught her ankle in one hand and glared up at her. His cybernetic eye shone bloody from behind a thin film of mud. 

"Funny, I thought you already did, slut. How'd my spunk taste?" He pulled hard on her leg, and she hopped awkwardly to avoid being toppled. 

She rolled her eyes and started to speak, but a fucking train rammed her crotch, and the retort turned into an agonized yelp. The pain seized her stomach, her legs went out from under her, and she landed hard on her back in the cold muck. Her hands shot down to shield her aching center as she whimpered. Dimly, she could hear Kano panting and shuffling over. Get up, get up, she thought, but her legs wouldn't obey. 

"Never beat you, eh?" She felt more than saw him looming over her, could hear the grin in his voice. She rolled away from it, but he grabbed her shoulder roughly and pulled her over on her back again. He straddled her, knees pinning her arms to her waist, and put his hands to her throat. 

He leaned in until their noses were nearly touching, his one eye boring hatefully into hers. The glare from his cybernetic eye washed her vision with red, blurring out everything except for his teeth, surprisingly sharp and bared in a humorless grin. "Looks like it's curtains for you, baby." 

He squeezed, thumbs boring into the hollow at the base of her neck, snug against her windpipe. She choked, warmth flooding the back of her skull, and he laughed, one hand coming off her throat and cupping a breast. "What d'ya say, bitch? Wanna suck me off again? Might let you live, if you play nice." 

She struggled to free her arms with no luck, eliciting another laugh from him and a merciless squeeze of her tit. She could feel him, hard against her stomach through his mud-soaked pants. He bent lower, kissing her roughly, biting her lips when she tried to turn her head away. Her vision was going gray, static spots dancing across his face when he relented, the hand that was choking her relaxing and stroking the length of her throat. She took in a shuddering breath, mouth flying wide open, and curled up to him reflexively. He laughed, free hand stealing around the back of her neck to grip her ponytail, the other pulling down the zipper of her cropped jacket. He yanked hard on her hair, tipping her face up to the canopy, and slid two dirty fingers into the neck of her shirt, stretching it down over her chest until the hem hung up under the cup of her bra. 

"C'mon, Sonya," he murmured in her ear. "One more round." His teeth closed around the soft lobe of her ear. The hand at her chest vanished down and away to his boot, and she heard the sibilant rasp of a knife sliding free of its sheath. 

She shuddered at the cold metal burning a line across her breast, felt a snap of relieved tension as he cut her brastrap. 

"You...fucker," she gasped, wincing as his hand dived back in, scooping the soft flesh up in his palm and kneading it again. 

He laughed, but there was a note of desperation in it. He rocked against her, letting her feel the length of his erection, and pushed her back into the mud. "You know you want this again. You know you need it, just as much as I do." 

He spread his knees out just enough to let her hands slip free, and she brought them up to his broad shoulders. A thought flashed across her mind quickly, a desire to pull him down to her and fuck like animals again, and it scared her that she actually considered it before shoving him off and away. She scrambled back and onto her knees, eyeing him warily as she massaged her throat. 

"Fuck you," she barked out, glancing down at the ruined brastrap and the attached cup hanging down against her stomach. "Do you know what these things cost?" 

His gaze was fixed on her bare tit. "I don't really give a rat's arse. Let's just fuck again, okay?" 

She snarled, tugging her shirt back up and advancing on him. "That wasn't something we're going to make a habit, you dense son of a bitch. We were in close quarters and trapped, and—and..." 

"And what?" He scoffed, flipping his knife in his hand idly. "It happened, and that's all that matters. Happened once, it can happen again." 

"Well it won't," she said firmly, cheeks stinging. The pain in her vag was ebbing, and to her alarm she felt a weak quaver of lust run through her. Not again. She could justify the last time, but now? There were no extenuating circumstances. She wasn't attracted to him—she couldn't be attracted to him. It was perfectly normal to be...confused--he'd been able to make her cum, which...wasn't as common as she would have liked. Would it be nice to have another orgasm? Of fucking course, but they were trying to get out of this goddamn place—not just keep fucking each other's brains out. 

She stomped over to him and took hold of the neck of his vest and hefted him up, glaring into his face. He stared back, eye narrowed and smirking slightly, and with a sickening pang she realized he wasn't afraid in the slightest. She shook him and he laughed. She cocked an arm back and punched him in the jaw so hard his head snapped back, and when he straightened again, the smile was gone. She hauled back to hit him again, but a chill bite at her spine stopped her cold. 

He slid the knife down slowly, his eye dark and calculating. "You're being really sloppy, love. You just can't admit it to yourself, eh? Don't want to have it on your conscience that you said 'yes' to big, bad Kano after all these years?" 

She was breathing hard, willing the traitorous queasiness in her hips to abate. The threat in his voice shouldn't turn her on like this, shouldn't make her hesitate and lean into him. 

He grinned, putting his free hand to her waist, and pulling her in tight. "It's alright. You don't have to say yes. We're just fighting, yeah? Like we've always done." 

She arched her back away from the knife, grinding her hips against his and pushing her breasts up his chest. He sighed, the hand on her hip sliding around to grab her ass. 

"Fuck. C'mon. I can't walk, I can't think—I gotta have you again." He breathed, and she gazed up in his face and saw his pupil had dilated into a wide pool of black.

"Goddamnit," she muttered, and slipped her hands down to his pants, unfastening them and tugging them down his hips. 

He grinned and threw the knife away, walking back until his spine tapped the trunk of a large tree. "That's the trick, whore." 

She shrugged off her jacket and pulled her shirt up over her head. He had grabbed her breasts again before it fell to the ground, and was kneading them steadily, watching her flesh bunch between his fingers. "Mmph, you're a—predictable fuck," she sighed, one hand covering his and encouraging him to grip harder while she unbuttoned her own pants with the other. 

He shrugged and hunkered lower, squeezing one tit out towards him and brushing her nipple over his lips before taking it into his mouth and teasing her with his tongue, flickering it with wet heat. 

She sighed, clit throbbing, and inclined her head as much as possible to watch as he started sucking, pulling back with slick smacks and latching on again, pinching hard with his teeth until she yelped. He hefted her tits up and buried his head between them, kissing and biting the warm skin. 

"Fuck, you're so soft." His voice buzzed deliciously against her sternum. "So sweet. I just wanna drown in these." 

She snickered, but lost her trail of thought as he pulled back and began massaging and sucking again. God, she was getting wet and her tits were aching like never before. He slid one hand down the muscled plane of her stomach, leaving a trail of mud, and slipped it under the waistband of her pants. He forced his hand down over the hot mound of her vulva and pushed between her labia, circling tightly over her clit. A cold ache shot through the tit he was sucking, and he made a small noise of surprise, withdrawing and mouth falling open, white liquid dribbling down into his black beard. 

"Bloody fuck," he gasped, squeezing her breast from the base and pulling forward. Milk beaded slowly from her nipple, and she shuddered, hot static gathering around her neck. He crushed her breast in his hand and a thin stream jetted out to spatter against his face. He laughed and bent to her again, sucking hard as he milked her roughly, and her hips twitched. The pressure was incredible, and his lips and tongue felt superheated against her tender skin, and she moaned as he gulped her down. His ministrations at her crotch grew frenzied and awkward, dispelling the sweet haze of arousal slightly, and she stopped his hand. 

"Just fuck me," she panted, remembering hungrily how well he had filled her last time. "I want you inside me yesterday." 

He sucked sharply as he pulled away, catching her nipple between his teeth and drawing back painfully, and she whined. He kissed her sloppily and she could taste the warm richness of her milk on his tongue. She groaned and seized his shoulders, spinning them around so they switched places and her back was against the tree. He grinned and hauled her pants and underwear down with one violent tug, and then he lifted her up, hard dick pushing laboriously against her tight entrance. 

She winced at the bark rasping against her naked back and was going to ask him to lay them down instead when he thrust forward suddenly, shoving himself up into the sensitive opening, forcing it wide as he bore his full length into her. She yelled at the shocking pain of it, but as he pumped, it spread into an incredible heat that felt even better than she remembered. 

"Like that, bitch?" He panted, holding eye contact, and the delirium she saw there was intoxicating. "Fuck, you are slick." 

"Harder," she murmured, and he was only too happy to oblige. She cried out again and again as he pounded her, lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, drawing him in deeper so that each thrust pressed his thick head against her cervix. She closed her eyes as he found her breast again, and coaxed the other one with steady massaging until she felt another cool ache and heard a thin hissing as milk streamed out. She had never imagined it would be this hot to lactate during sex, never thought it would happen to her, but here she was, with motherfucking Kano suckling greedily at her heavy tits, and she couldn't deny how incredible it was. She bit her lip, wondering whether she'd be bold or stupid enough to indulge in another one of her kinks, knowing she was literally worlds away from the closest Plan B. She'd had her pills in her pack, but she'd lost that after escaping Shang Tsung. Maybe a couple nights missed wouldn't make much of a difference, but if she let him—

He disengaged, trailing wet kisses up her neck and jawline, nibbling at her ear again. "You taste real nice, Sonya. I could suck your tits all day." 

She put a hand to the sweaty nape of his neck and pulled. "Be my guest. I want you to suck me dry and leave me bruised to hell." 

He shuddered and let go of her, putting both hands to her breasts as she slid back down, wincing as it forced his dick hard inside her. She could feel the veins at his base against her labia. 

"That's a fucking given, love," he sighed, kissing her forehead. "You're so goddamn good. We get out of here, I'll have my boys pick you up, take you to the base, and we can do this day in and day out." 

He twitched inside her, and he bent his knees to pull out fully, then knelt in front of her and tugged a leg over his shoulders. His breath puffed against her pubic hair as he looked up at her, eye steady. "I'm gonna put you in a cell, cuff you to the wall, and spend a few hours every day using you however I want. You hear? I'm gonna pump you full of cum and milk you dry and you're gonna love every goddamn second." 

She whimpered, a vague sense of fear stirred by the seriousness in his voice, but getting off on his words. "Use me," she repeated, hiking her other leg over his shoulders and tilting her hips so he had a better angle. 

"Mm, yeah." He closed his eye almost reverently and bent to her crotch, lips parting her labia and tongue darting out across the slick folds in search of her clit. 

She felt him closing in and whined, running her fingers through his hair and gripping it by the roots. F-uck. Waves of molten lust lapped at the back of her skull, intensifying as he nipped and licked, the wet sounds obscene in the stillness of the forest. 

He hummed, sending vibrations through her bones, and she bucked again, felt his beard scratch her inner thighs as he smirked. He moved lower, tongue testing the sore rim of her vagina before sliding in and swirling around the overstimulated passage. 

She choked and doubled over as he started pumping her with his tongue. It shouldn't feel so good after his thick cock had stretched her out that much, but every nerve was focused on each twitch and flex of that stubby muscle, and god if it wasn't driving her crazy. Tongue-fucked by Kano, holy shit. 

He pulled free after a couple more glorious minutes and she let out a disappointed sigh despite herself. She was so close—she could feel it. He read her expression instantly and laughed. 

"Don't worry, love, I want to give you something real special." 

"Cum inside me," she said, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. He looked taken aback, so she repeated, flushing. "I want you to cum inside me." 

He scowled. "Yeah, I was gonna." He pulled her down and threw her into the mud. She landed on her back with a grunt, legs flying up, and he settled himself over her, guiding his dick back inside her. 

She moaned as he slid slowly into her, and put a hand to her breast and began playing with it. He leaned over the other and licked tightening circles around its base, migrating gradually up around her areola and pinching her nipple between his teeth briefly before sucking again. He thrust steadily, gaining speed until he found a rapid pace that sent waves of pain and pleasure up her spine. Close. She grabbed the base of the breast he'd latched on to and kneaded it firmly, watching as his cheeks filled with milk, and shuddering as he swallowed and sucked harder. 

He disengaged with a slurp and stared at her, grunting with each thrust. "You're about to get your wish, Sonya Blade." 

She bit her lip and arched against him closing her eyes and feeling tears sting at their corners. "Fuck. I want—ugh, you are so deep inside me." 

He panted, pushing harder until she cried out at the pain. "That's right, bitch. No one can fuck you like I can, you hear? No one's—nnh... I'm gonna, I'm gonna fill you to the brim and leave you—unf—bloody and leaking, and then I'll do it again and again until your stomach's fucking—ah—round and your tits get massive." He slid a hand beneath him and used a finger to stimulate her clit while he pounded her, leaning down to plant absurdly gentle kisses on her breasts as he talked. "No kids—just gonna keep pumping you full and emptying you out until you forget what life was like before you became my sweet little fucktoy. How's that sound?" 

She gasped and writhed under him as he found her clit and pressed hard, running his finger back and forth over it. His brow was knit with something approaching reverence and she knew he was as close as she was. "I want you to cum," she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. "Get as deep inside me as you can and cum until you have nothing left. I want every goddamn drop." 

He choked, reddening, and she felt him pulse inside her, again and again, a heavy warmth spreading between her legs and dripping down her asscrack, and he was still going, and the throbbing of his dick and his head on her chest and fingers in her cunt sent her over the edge and she spasmed underneath him, gasping hoarsely, arms wrapping around his shoulders and nails digging into his back. She knocked her head back into the mud and stared up at the brilliant shards of sky beaming down through the canopy, tears welling up in her eyes. 

He sighed into her neck, collapsing on top of her, utterly spent. She felt him start to soften inside her and cleared her throat, but he didn't seem to notice or care. Her legs were weak and heavy from the orgasm, but she managed to nudge him off of her. Still maddeningly close, but she could handle laying side-by-side. She told herself the band of contact from her shoulder to hip wasn't nice, that she was just too tired to roll away and start cleaning herself, but when he drew her closer to him, tucking his chin over her shoulder and slinging an arm over her stomach, she didn't resist. 

What the fuck was wrong with her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I think I'm doing more of these. Lmk if you have any pointers or requests or need anything tagged!


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